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.”The not-Quentin’s face tightened, though he continued to smile.“Are you trying to get in my way, little girl?”Brooke didn’t correct his seeming assumption about her age but instead said in a musing tone, “See, the thing about the gray time, the thing Diana understands, is that nothing living can exist here for long.Actually, not even spiritual essence can exist here for long.And there’s a reason for that.”Diana wasn’t sure what was going on but felt compelled to say, “It’s because this is a corridor, a place to travel.Not a place to live in.”“And?” Brooke prompted.For a moment Diana was even more confused, but then she realized what it was Brooke wanted her to say.“And… there’s a pull from each side of the corridor.The living side—and what lies beyond death.They both pull constantly.That’s why it’s gray and flat and cold here.That’s why it’s so tiring for me to be here.This place saps strength, energy.”“Energy,” Brooke murmured.“Power.” Her gaze never left the face of the not-Quentin.He stared at her for a long moment, then turned and went back through the open door, closing it behind him.Left with Brooke in the seemingly endless corridor lined with closed doors, Diana said, “What the hell just happened?”“Maybe I bought you a little more time.”“Before what? And I thought you said you couldn’t interfere?”Brooke was frowning now, but her voice was almost absent when she said, “I wonder if you have any idea at all how many people want you to live, Diana.”“Listen, this isn’t one of those It’s a Wonderful Life things, is it? Because if it is—”“No, of course not.That’s Hollywood stuff.”Diana managed a shaky laugh.“As opposed to the gray time, and seeing spirits, and, oh, I don’t know, having visions of the future or the past or seeing auras or making people see what you want them to—that sort of stuff? Because Hollywood angels make it all look a lot simpler than I’ve seen it in my actual life.”“You have a point.”Reluctant humor fleeing, Diana sighed and said, “Brooke, give me a clue, will you? You say I’m here because I have to be, here to do something.That… thing… dressed up to look like Quentin says you’re lying.And the only thing I really know, the only thing I feel, is that one of you is trying to deceive me.”“You have very good instincts.”“Brooke, for God’s sake!”“I can only tell you so much, Diana.Help you so much.Most of this you have to figure out on your own.”“Why?”“Just because.It’s the rule.”“Why did I know you were going to say that.” Suddenly aware that she was beginning to feel more tired, Diana fought off a chill from someplace even colder than the gray time and said, “So you can’t tell me who or what that is pretending to be Quentin.”“No.”“Can you at least tell me what I’m here to do?”“I’ve already told you that, Diana.” Brooke turned and began to walk again down the endless corridor.“You’re here to find the truth.”Diana followed.“Yeah, you said.The truth underneath it all.Underneath all of what, Brooke? How many layers do I have to peel back before I can find the truth?”“Several,” Brooke admitted.And then, surprising Diana, she added, “There’s the truth at the heart of the investigation you’re involved in.The truth of why you were shot.The truth of your relationship with Quentin.The truth of who is trying to deceive you—and why.”“And the truth underneath it all?”“That too.Uncover the other truths, and that one will be exposed.”“How am I supposed to uncover any of them here, Brooke?”“The best way you can.And… I expect you’ll have help.”Hollis really hoped DeMarco had been right when he said secretiveness kept her from broadcasting her thoughts—and intentions—all over the place.But she wasn’t counting on it.She was trying her best to keep her mind quiet and still, pretending to sleep.She had never been more wide awake in her life, despite being so tired it was a bone-deep ache.They had been moved to a smaller, more private waiting room just down the hall from the ICU, a space clearly designed for the families of intensive-care patients to spend long hours; several of the chairs were actually recliners, and fairly comfortable ones at that.Then again, maybe a bed of rocks would have felt no different, Hollis thought.She opened her eyes a bit to look at DeMarco, deliberately glancing and then looking away so as not to awaken that ever-vigilant primal sense of his.Not that she posed any sort of danger to him, but she had a hunch that sense could warn him about anything he wanted it to.Such as her leaving the room to do something that was probably really stupid.He appeared to be asleep, eyes closed and hands clasped peacefully across his lean middle, the recliner tipped nearly all the way back.His face—that unexpectedly, almost unnervingly handsome face—was relaxed in a way it never was when he was awake.Hollis didn’t trust that seeming serenity, especially since she couldn’t see his aura
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